Chapter 133: Ch. 132: Divorce


    “It is funny how I’m back in the same ce, yet again,” I murmur. It’s amazing how much time noblewomen and royal women have to spend getting fitted for this and that. But one thing has certainly changed. The tape measurer around my bust feels different from thest, there’s a new sensitivity there that I remember all too well from my previous adventures with puberty.


    “Life is cyclical,” Lady Arabe murmurs, checking the numbers on her tape measurer before scribbling something down. “But we all continue to grow and change.”


    “Is something the matter, Lady Berr- Lady Arabe?” I curse myself for nearly slipping up and addressing her by the married name that she obviously hates.


    Lady Arabe smiles down sadly at her notebook. “Is it so obvious?”


    “A little. You know you can confide in me. If it is within my abilities, I would be more than happy to help.”


    She looks tempted for a second. Lady Arabe is a scant few years younger than my real age, smack dab in the middle of her twenties, but her spirit makes her seem far older. At my words, she perks up and a bit of her youthfulness peeks through her eyes. However, I can see her smother her hope right before my eyes, the light dimming once more.


    The young Arabe Westmont whom I saw being bullied at the Spring Ball all those years ago looks even frailer now than she did then as if life has been chipping away at her vitality.


    .....


    “No, it wouldn’t be proper for me to say. You’ve already done so much for me,” she murmurs dully. Today was just a meeting forst-minute alterations on my already finished dress, hence the speed of our appointment.


    “I’ll decide if it’s not proper. Go ahead, share,” I urge. Rule #1 of running any sort ofwork: keep those in your employment happy. And I’m nowhere near as useless as I was a few years ago.


    “A divorce.” Ites out as a whisper, a barely intelligible one.


    “Eh?” I ask. Her voice is so quiet I’m not sure if I heard her speak.


    “I would like a divorce,” Lady Arabe repeats. Her tone is quiet but firm.


    The words themselves are not shocking to me, but for this era it is. Unhappy marriages aremonce amongst the nobility, but many simply seekfort in someone else’s arms aside from their spouse once they’ve produced an heir or two.


    Lady Arabe is a true rarity for opening a couturier and working, something considered sphemous by most noblewomen. At most, some esteemed noblewomen open up a salon in an expensive part of the capital so they can have somewhere else to gossip and gamble outside of their luxurious homes. In fact, now that I think about it, it’s rather surprising to me that members of the Berrick family she has married into haven’t forced her to shut it down yet.


    Taking my silence as a negative, Lady Arabe backpedals immediately and her tan skin pales. “As I said, it was presumptuous of me. Please take it as meaningless nonsense brought about by today’s terrible heat.”


    “No, don’t be like that,” I cajole, reaching out to take one of her hands. They are freezing cold despite the aforementioned good weather. “I know how others might react but believe me, I understand why you may wish for a divorce.”


    The mountainous Sir Jasper who’d dragged out from under the hedge had been the source of my nightmares for years after all. Larger than a mountain and with hands the size of catcher’s mitts, seeing the obedientpdog of Katya would strike fear into the heart of anyone.


    “He has returned from the east. With more merits under his belt than he left,” Lady Arabe stammers out. Patience is key for the entire story to unravel itself and I can tell there is a greater story lurking under her words.


    I’ve had enough years of practice to understand the meaningced in between. After all, the entire reason this marriage happened was so that the then small Berrick family, which was tottering on the small title of baron, could obtain more military power and further benefit House Duvernay. The eldest son was already a lock on inheriting the title, driving Jasper Berrick into the royal guard like any other second son seeking to make a name outside his family. But by marrying Arabe, he’s managed to siphon away herte famous father’s supporters in the army, building a bigger name for himself.


    Allowing her to run her couturier was a great allowance on the part of the Berrick family,rgely due to the fact that they were leeching onto her like a vampire to build up their military power and needed to keep her temporarily happy. But now that Sir Jasper has returned with his own merits, he won’t need to keep Arabe “happy” any longer, not that she was happy to begin with. That beast of a husband doesn’t have a soul and I’ve seen the bruises.


    “Coming back with merits means that you can hold your head higher as his wife,” I say, pretending to be obtuse so I can draw more out of Lady Arabe.


    “Hold my head higher?” Sheughs but it sounds more like a cry. “I am not respected in the Berrick residence. None of the servants treat me kindly except for the scant few I brought with me from home. He fornicates with the maids before my eyes. But do you know that I’m actually happy when he does? I’d prefer he go to another woman other than myself.”


    She shivers before realizing she is talking to a young unwed girl and gasps. “I’ve shared too much, your highness. This is not the typical behavior of a husband. I’m sure whomever His Majesty will wed you to will respect you very much.”


    I wave her concerns away while inwardly cackling because of a certain marriage contract that could potentially ship me to a whole other continent. “I’m a princess, I’ve heard of these things before,” I tell her.


    “I may not be able to visit you as often from now on,” Lady Arabe sighs bitterly. “Jasper may try to force me to close my shop and stay home now that he has the prestige he wanted and no need for my family name.”


    I tap my chin. The military happens to be one of the ces in the government that I have struggled to gain information about. But from Lady Arabe’s words, I can fathom that the Duvernay family has been seeking to gain more power in an arena that my father has sessfully held dominion over for almost 20 years. Being a conqueror emperor does tend to make you quite popr with the military after all.


    “We have been sessful business partners for the past few years, no?” I ask.


    “Yes?”


    “Then why would I abandon you so quickly? We may have first made our acquaintance under dishonest circumstances when I went by Pandora, but I would say that we get along very well these days.” Her eyes grow misty as I speak.


    “Your highness...” Lady Arabe half-sobs. “I am grateful for your recognition. My only escape and true passion would have never been fulfilled if it weren’t for you.”


    Internally, I’m shaking my head because, in the webnovel, Lady Arabe had already found a way to found her sessful East Bend shop all on her own.


    But I do want to help her. Beyond just the tangible benefits both Augustus and myself would receive if the Duvernay family has one less ace in their corner, she reminds me of my mother. And the same way my mother had the freedom and courage to break off her abusive rtionship, I want to help Lady Arabe do the same, old-fashioned rules and conventions be damned.


    “I have faith that even without my aid, you would’ve done it on your own. But I hope you remember, you’re not alone Lady Arabe. I can’t promise that I can find a way to make this divorce happen, but I will do anything in my power to help you. I’ve... seen before that rtionships such as your own will only do more harm than good if you try to persevere and stay in it. You are still young and without children so now is the best time for you-”


    I get pulled into a fierce hug, one that surprises me so much I hardly remember what I am to say next.


    “To leave? Lady Arabe?” I say, my remaining words muffled in the simple fabric of her dress. Despite being having debuted in society and newly minted member of nobility, the shy Lady Arabe has often dressed more like amoner than a noblewoman.


    “Thank you. Thank you, your highness. Even if nothing happens, not be demonized for my fervent wish pleases me beyond words.” In the midst of her passionate words, I finally wrap my arms around her as well. There is a bruise on her ribcage, which I heal in seconds.


    Lady Arabe speaks with the same reverence as if I’ve done far more for her than simply understanding where she’sing from when she said she wanted a divorce. It’s things like this that make me miss my past life, where women were free to pursue a divorce if they wanted one and weren’t seen as sphemous for it.


    “It’s aplex process but I’ve read up on this matter, there are ways to get around it,” I muse, my head already going in circles. I’m grateful for the early days in the pce where I did nothing but read and mope around. The information I’ve obtained in that era, particrly from a heavy tome about Erudianw, serves me greatly to this day.


    “Don’t bother, your highness. I’ve looked into the prerequisite requirements and I know that I will never meet them for the divorce to even be heard in a court ofw. But I will survive this marriage. If you never hear from me again, your highness, take care. I shall still endeavor to get information to you however I can.” Lady Arabe looks like a soldier returning to the battlefield, her weary smile and curtsey at odds with the finery and mour of my dressing room.


    She too sits in a position many would envy as the Berrick family climbs the ranks from a low-tier noble family to a mid-tier one, and yet Lady Arabe would much rather leave. She reminds me greatly of myself.


    “If you knew some of the things I’ve done in the past, you’d have more faith in me,” I chuckle, her every word only further cementing my desire to drag her out of her unhealthy marriage. But when I look up at the door, Lady Arabe is gone as if she were never here.